


Past Mistakes

by PuppyLuv230



Series: Five Nights at Freddy's one-shots [6]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mike is a girl named Michelle, Parts of Springtrap's past revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyLuv230/pseuds/PuppyLuv230
Summary: New Year's has passed, and Michelle (Mike) notices a change in Springtrap's behavior. And she decides to try to find out what's wrong. One-shot.





	Past Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's.

It’s amazing what people can learn about others by just listening to those around you. I found this out with Springtrap a few weeks after the new year began.

"Hey, Springtrap?" I called out, looking for the yellow rabbit animatronic. There had been something off with him ever since the new year had started, and I wanted to find out what had happened. It seemed he didn’t want to be found, though, and when asked, not even the others knew where he was.

I searched the entire building, the Parts & Service room being the last place I looked. I groaned and leaned against the wall of the room, ready to give up and let him be, when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A part of the wall just outside of the camera’s line of sight was cracked a small bit, revealing a door behind the paint and wallpaper leading to a crawlspace.

'What the…?' I silently said as I crept closer to the opening.

I slowly let myself into the area, wary of what may be within the hidden walls, and stopped just inside the frame. It was a dark space, mostly empty but surprisingly big. A small amount of light filtered in behind me from the Parts and Service room, lighting the area up just enough for me to make out what was inside. It seemed to be an old, abandoned janitorial closet that had been cleared of all its resources long ago. A single small steel stand with five shelves stood against the wall opposite me, bare of any materials to occupy the space. The walls to my left and right were empty. A sound of slight movement caught my attention, and I noticed a figure curled up in the farthest corner of the room from me.

"Spring-?" I said softly as to not startle him from my sudden presence, only for him to cut me off.

"Leave," he ordered.

I froze at his words, contemplating if I should listen or not. One look at him, however, and I decided not to. He was always cold and distant from the rest of us, but there was something in his voice, something in the way he spoke just now, that told me he needed someone with him right now. I’d never understand why I’d care about this or him- he did murder the children trapped in the animatronic suits- but something kept nagging at me to talk to him, to find out what’s wrong.

Disobeying his request, I entered the space, closing the door behind me until it was only a crack open, and sat about a foot away from him against the bare wall. I could see him up close now, my eyes having slightly adjusted to the dark.

He was curled into himself in the corner, sitting with his head resting on his knees and arms wrapped loosely around his legs. It was a position I knew well because I would do the same thing as a child whenever I was upset or scared.

"…Springtrap…?" I asked carefully as to not upset him any further than he already was. "…Are you alright…?"

It was a dumb question, really. Of course he wasn’t alright, but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth through the jumbles of questions going through my mind. Instead of staying silent, as I had expected from him, he looked up and growled at me a bit before speaking, snapping at me and my poor word choice.

"Am I alright?!" he practically yelled. "Why wouldn’t I be?! I’m trapped here for eternity in the best place on Earth, with the most memorable animatronics in the world and great staff who always know just what to say to make people feel better!"

Feel the sarcasm.

"Of course I’m not okay!" he barked. "How could I be?! I’m stuck in this Hellhole with the brats I thought I’d ended years ago but night by night keep tormenting me! Not to mention you, who pretends to care when really you’re just trying to find an excuse to get rid of me! Hell, if I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing, though I’d skip the pretending to care part and go straight to the getting rid of part!"

Springtrap was breathing heavily at the end of his monologue, and I remained silent, contemplating his words and thinking over what I wanted to say carefully. One wrong word could set him off again and make the situation worse.

"…What makes you think I’m pretending to care?" I finally asked, taking a chance with the simple yet volatile question.

Springtrap was silent for a moment, expression unreadable, before he slowly stood up and began heading for the door. "Why do I even bother," I heard him say softly, as if to himself.

"Wait!" I called, getting up myself and catching his arm before he could leave, free hand ready to push the door open.

He turned to look at me, eyes beginning to glow in the dark space as his anger rose. "What do you want?"

"I want to know what’s going on!" I replied, looking him directly in the eyes to show I wasn’t lying. "I want to know why you’ve acted so different ever since New Year’s!"

He rolled his eyes, the glow coming from them dimming until there was barely any light there. "Oh, is that all," he replied sarcastically. "It’s none of your business, so butt out."

"No, I won’t," I said, knowing he would get mad at me but not caring at the moment. "I just want to help you-"

"Yeah, right," Springtrap cut in. "You want to help me. What a bunch of bull. No one wants to help me. No one ever did, and no one ever will."

I was speechless at that. Many questions buzzed in my mind at his words, jumbling my thoughts into trying to piece together what he meant.

"Go ahead," he said after a while. I looked up at him in confusion, and he rolled his eyes again. "It’s obvious you have questions, so spill it. I can’t say I’ll give you an answer, though."

Another moment of silence passed before I broke out of my self-induced trance and took a deep breath of air.

"Is that why you killed those kids?" I managed to ask, and though I know very well I whispered it, I swear it sounded like a shout in the empty room.

Springtrap looked stunned to say the least for a good minute, before something akin to sorrow replaced it. He moved back to the corner he had sat in and regained his former position. After a time where I thought he wouldn’t speak to me and I was about ready to leave him alone, he talked again.

"Honest to God, I don’t know why I did it all," he responded. It wasn’t a lie, I could tell that. He honestly seemed confused and disheartened by his past actions.

I sat down next to him, a few inches closer than before, and let the silence bear down upon us as I tried to figure out what to say. Maybe if I could help find the cause of this, it would be easier for him to pass on and let the children pass on as well.

"Maybe if we can find out why you did it, you’ll be able to pass on," I offered. "All of this will end, and you and the children won’t have to be stuck here any longer."

Springtrap let out a forced chuckle. "Yeah, I’ll pass on, all right. Pass on right into the pit of fire I was meant to go to when everything started. The first time I killed, it scared me. "What have I done?" I thought. That was at my old workplace before my gig here at Freddy’s. It was a while before I killed again. As time went on, it got easier to do, especially when I stopped thinking of them as people. Sick, I know, but I got better at it. Practice makes perfect, I guess. Soon it became a hunger. Most of the time, I was fine, but then the urge would hit me. I had to off some unlucky runt on my own, every one of them between six and ten years old. You were honestly the first adult I’ve ever targeted, so that’s why I had help with me the first time I came after you… A part of me is actually glad I was killed in this spring locked deathtrap. I can’t harm anyone anymore."

I just sat there and listened to him. It was clear he felt remorse for what he did, even though he hurt so many people without a thought at the time.

"You can still apologize to them," I suggested. "They’re still here, waiting for something that can set them free. It might not seem like much, but it could be a step in the right direction to setting all of you free."

"And an "I’m sorry" is going to make up for what I did?" Springtrap asked. "Forget it. Too little, too late. Some people belong in Hell."

"Maybe that’s the reason you’re here, though," I said.

"What, I’m supposed to suffer here before I pass on into eternal damnation? Yeah, some reason." Springtrap let out another humorless chuckle.

I shook my head. "No, I don’t think that’s it."

"Then what other reason would I still be here?!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in a fit of frustration. "What possible reason other than to torture me would I still be stuck here with those runts for possibly eternity?!"

"To reconcile with them for your past mistakes," I answered, and Springtrap fell into silence as I continued. "You still have a chance to right your wrongs with them. They’re still here with you, and you can gain their forgiveness. It’ll take a long time, but you still can. Not many people like you were so lucky after death. You still have a chance to be saved."

The quiet stretched on after my words stopped, both of us not saying anything, yet the silence was not uncomfortable. When a moment passed, an idea occurred to me.

"Why don’t we ask each other questions about ourselves so we can get to know each other a little better? You know, quid pro quo."

Springtrap sighed. "I don’t see why I should agree to this, but fine. Quid pro quo. Ask away."

"What was your family like," I asked. It was a simple question, but it was one that could help open pathways to more personal and revealing questions that would help me figure out who Vincent was before he became a murderer and why his life led up to that moment. Maybe, like Marion and his trust issues with adults, there was something that happened to him in his childhood that made him do the things he did. And if I remembered correctly from my high school psychology class, that was usually the case.

"Heh. Going for a big one, huh?" Springtrap asked, a small smirk on his face before it disappeared and he looked down. "I’ll spare you the sob story, but I’m just going to say my upbringing wasn’t in what people would consider a "caring" family. They never cared for anything they saw as useless. Even our pets weren’t spared. The losers, the weaklings, the runts, no use for them in the household. I eventually just ran away from it all… Now it’s my turn to ask you a question."

I nodded.

"What’s a girl like you doing here trying to help me and a bunch of ghost children when you could have beat it ages ago and never looked back?"

I smiled sadly. "Honestly, I wanted to leave when I first started working here as a night guard. I mean, with those phone calls you gave me, I swore the animatronics were going to kill me. But a part of me wanted to stay with the friends I’d had since I was a child. My parents would take me here on the weekends, and I’d talk to the animatronics between shows practically nonstop. As for helping you and them, it just doesn’t feel right just leaving you all the way you are right now. You know the story of Anne Frank, right?"

Springtrap nodded. "Yeah, her diary is famous. She was a little Jewish girl living in the Netherlands in an annex when the Holocaust happened. Why are you asking?"

"Her story holds something about her that is more special than most people like to think," I replied. "She was able to see the goodness in everyone she met, even the Nazi man that caught her family and sent them to the concentration camps. I want to be able to do that, too."

Springtrap smirked at me. "I’ll bet you haven’t found that in me, yet," he said, crossing his arms.

I shook my head. "Not yet." When Springtrap opened his mouth to call me out on it, I stopped him. "But I think I’m getting close."

He closed his jaw at that, looking slightly annoyed at my words.

"I have another question," I continued. "Quid pro quo."

"Fine," Springtrap sighed.

"Where did you go when you ran away?"

"Still on that, huh?... I was fifteen when I ran away, but I looked older, so I hoped I could disappear until I was eighteen so my parents couldn’t drag me back. I could make a new start, then. But I was homeless and needed help- needed a place to live and a job. Everywhere I went, though, they called the cops on me. I kept running then, at least until I found a place that would take me. A place that made robots like the ones here. I worked for them, and they gave me food and shelter and payed me under the table until I could legally take the job. I didn’t have the education they wanted, but they put me with one of their more practiced workers and gave me the hands-on experience I needed to get the job done. After that, I was one of their best workers, and when they had a merger with another robotics company, they tried to keep me with them. They weren’t successful, but they tried… What was your family like?"

I had a feeling he was going to ask that one.

"There’s not much to say. I was born an only child to my parents. We weren’t all that wealthy, but we had what we needed to get by. Even so, my parents always tried to give back to the community in one way or another. There was one Christmas when I was eight that we went to the local soup kitchen to help serve food to people who couldn’t afford it. I remember a girl, around sixteen years old when she came in. Her clothes were torn, her hair was a mess, and she reeked something awful. My parents gave her some food and started talking with her. Apparently, she ran away from home the year before and had been trying to live on her own ever since."

"What happened to her?" Springtrap asked. I knew he was interested now, after what he had told me.

"They didn’t call the cops on her, if that’s what you’re wondering," I said half-jokingly, hoping I hadn’t hit a nerve there. "At least, not to take her back. We had them look into what she told us about her parents. Said they mentally abused her. Starved her once for a few days, too. The police were able to confirm this through neighbors that had witnessed it from just hearing the things her parents said to her alone. My parents let her stay with us until we could find a situation that would be better for her. We eventually got ahold of her uncle, and he took custody of her when her parents were deemed unfit to care for her."

"She was one of the lucky ones," Springtrap replied.

"Yeah, I know," I said sadly, looking down at my hands, which I had begun to wring in my lap. "There were a few times I met people who weren’t so lucky, and I wish there was something I could’ve done to help them. To stop them from destroying themselves the rest of the way after everything life had thrown at them."

"Are we done, then?" Springtrap asked, seeming like he was ready to get up.

"Just one more question," I said. "Quid pro quo?"

Springtrap groaned. "Quid pro quo."

"I’ve noticed the way you look at Golden Freddy, like he was a childhood friend of yours. Why do you do that?"

Springtrap laughed. "Finally, a question with a good answer!"

His eyes seemed to light up at that before it died down.

"It was when I got the gig here. You know how the costume usually doesn’t have an endoskeleton inside? Well, it was originally a costume people wore to interact with others between shows. I would know! I was the schmuck in the costume!"

I didn’t know this about Freddy’s. This must have been before I started coming here as a kid.

"Back then, he was known as Fredbear, the costume I’m currently in was the original Bonnie, and the place used to be called Fredbear’s Family Diner," Springtrap explained. "I would always dress up as Fredbear and interact with the children who came into the restaurant. The costumes smelled horrible, and no one was willing to dress up as Bonnie, but I didn’t mind. I’d actually forget about that as I entertained the kids. They loved me, and I loved them. I was able to be someone different. I wasn’t me…"

He paused as realization came over his face.

"I…wasn’t me. That’s what it was. I got so caught up in being a character beloved by children, I forgot I was me. The urge never hit me when I was in costume because I never realized I was me."

Springtrap looked down at his hands, flexing the metallic appendages, before he looked back up at me and sighed.

"But then they renovated the place, gave it a new name, and replaced the costumes with actual animatronics, the animatronics you worked with your first nights here. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. I was given a job as the night guard, and that’s when things fell apart. I never realized they kept the old costume, though."

I was silent, thinking over everything he told me.

"You know," I started, "technically you aren’t you anymore."

"What are you on about now?" Springtrap half-heartedly snapped.

"You’re not Vincent anymore. You’re not the one murdering people. You have a new life right now, a new body, heck, I even gave you a new name. You’ve even acted differently ever since the spring locks in that suit closed on you. You’re not Vincent anymore. You’re Springtrap."

He seemed to ponder my words carefully.

"Now, what’s your question. Quid pro quo," I reminded.

He laughed. Not smirked, not chuckled, actually gave a genuine laugh.

"Forget it," he responded once he calmed down. "I don’t think there’s a point in me asking questions when you’re getting more out of me than what I’m getting out of you."

I smiled and stood up, heading towards the door. My hand had only brushed it when Springtrap spoke again.

"Mike, don’t tell any of the others what I’ve said here, got it?"

What was obviously him trying to seem threatening sounded more like a request to me, and I nodded. That was the first time since he became Springtrap he had addressed me by my name actual name. 

I didn’t have to tell the others anything anyway. Once I exited the room, I saw Marion standing in the door of the Parts & Service room, back to me as if he was about to leave. I placed my hand on his shoulder and nodded my head towards the Office in a silent request to move there. He accepted, and we made our way to the empty room, since Jeremy was entertaining the other animatronics in the arcade area of the Game Room.

"How much did you hear?" I asked straight out.

"Not much until you asked "Is that why you killed those kids?" to him," Marion replied. "And then I listened to everything after that."

"And what’s your verdict?" I asked, wanting to know his response to what he heard from Springtrap.

Marion exhaled a loud breath. "I am not sure what to think of what he has revealed to you. I do know, however that all of us are tired of being angry and just want to rest. The judgments, when the time comes, will be up to each individual spirit. I will let them know of what I have learned so they have a better understanding of Vincent. He does show remorse for his past actions, and that is a start to finding forgiveness."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't updated "Baby's Five Nights" yet. I have most of the chapters for the nights done, but a couple of nights and the chapters in-between are still WIPs.
> 
> I figured it would be better if I posted this story first because it will give some background details that will be referred to in my Sister Location fic later on.
> 
> I had read Negaduck9's FNAF comic Springaling the other day on deviantART (really amazing comic, btw. Please go check out her gallery.) and it made me want to do a sort of background thing for Springtrap (a lot of which was based on the comic Springaling, so credit for that goes to her).


End file.
